


les fleurs

by aarobron



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Aaron is an angel, Homophobia, M/M, lots of fluff, robert is disgustingly in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2018-11-02 21:09:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10952778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aarobron/pseuds/aarobron
Summary: "Flowers, Robert," Aaron says plainly, slipping out of Robert's embrace to face him. "You bought me flowers."The hopeful grin highlighting his face is nothing short of- well, lovely, really, even if Aaron would never use that word in his entire life. "Do you like them?" His tone is eager, infectious, and it's moments like this that reminds them both of how much Robert really loves him."Do I look like a middle aged woman?" He asks, incredulous.or,the one where robert has a lot of feelings and aaron deserves all the flowers in the entire world.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello! yes, you read right - a fic entirely based on flower meanings. it's incredibly soft.
> 
> title from [this song](https://open.spotify.com/track/5ZBZSepIdSYbPaTSZLvZBU) \- because everyone should listen to 70s hippie tracks while writing fic. 
> 
> enjoy! xo

**in thy store there be but left two loaves, sell one, and with the dole, buy hyacinths to feed thy soul**

All things considered, it's stupid.

They argue a lot, sure - over big things and little things; over Robert flirting with anyone with a fucking pulse and over who left the milk out on an unusually hot day - because it's what they do. They fight and they make up because their relationship is passion and frustration and tenderness all rolled into one.

Aaron loves it.

Those on the outside, though? Not so much. 

And Aaron understands it. He _does_. He can imagine all too well what it's like to see them screaming at each other, red faced and hoarse.

But it's not his fault that he's got an idiot of a husband who likes spending money they don't have.

This time, Robert has bought a dressing table. It cost a tiny bit less than what the scrapyard brings in in an entire _month_ , but apparently that's antique and makes it okay.

Except it doesn't.

He tells Robert as much through raised voices and heated words. 

And then Robert's screaming that Aaron knows exactly what kind of man he married.

Now Aaron's yelling things that he won't remember in the morning.

They sleep apart tonight; Aaron curled up in their cold bed with tear tracks on his cheeks and Robert in the same position on the sofa downstairs. 

It's the same old story, and Aaron doesn't expect any different. He lies awake all night, waiting for the familiar routine.

"Baby," Robert murmurs, voice husky and low. "I'm sorry." He slides into the bed, onto the cold space next to Aaron, and curls an arm around his waist.

"Idiot," The younger man scoffs, but he accepts the gesture for what it is and promises himself that Robert won't get away with it this easy.

* * *

Aaron accepts the morning cup of coffee and swerves the morning kiss, and it lands on his cheek instead. "Are you coming with me to work this morning?" Robert asks brightly, clearly still trying to make up for the mess he'd caused the night before.

"I'm getting a lift with Adam," He says, almost dismissive but not quite. "Because you're taking that fucking dresser back where it came from. I mean it, Robert, if it's still here when I come back from lunch I won't be happy." 

He's still pissed off. He can feel it in his bones, and he wants Robert to feel it too.

It thrums through his body all day; an underlying irritation that he can't quite shake off, and even Adam notices something's up. "What's the matter with you?" He asks, but then stops shortly. "Let me guess: Robert." 

"Maybe you're not as stupid as everyone thinks," Aaron mutters, tapping his pen against the stack of papers in front of him. The accounts are frustrating him even more because this should be _Robert's_ job, only he's currently at an antiques shop in Hotten trying to fix his mistakes. And once again, it all comes down to that stupid dressing table.

Adam looks affronted before his face shifts, lips pursed and brows furrowed in a way that faintly reminds Aaron of a monkey. "Don't take it out on me because you married a-"

Aaron doesn't get to find out what _exactly_ he married (and maybe it's a good job, too), because there's a knock on the door. 

It's a portacabin. People never knock - unless it's a client, even though they haven't got anyone scheduled in today.

Adam stares at Aaron. Aaron stares right back.

"Fine!" Adam huffs, slamming his mug onto the desk. "I'll go!" 

Aaron shrugs, focusing his gaze back onto the page in front of him and stares at the numbers until they burn into his brain. None of this even makes any _sense_ \- and again, he's angry at Robert for that fucking dresser. He wonders if the rest of their lives are going to be like this, if Robert will constantly make decisions for the both of them (and then he tries to ignore the thrill _the rest of their lives_ sends up his spine). He hears Adam's loud bark of laughter and glances up, ready to just go back to pretending he's not interested but- Adam's holding flowers. A fucking _bouquet of flowers_ , all purples and blues, looking delighted. "Why did Vic chuck you out this time?" He asks, feigning indifference but secretly pleased he's not the only one with a useless husband.

"Mate!" Adam crows, face lit up like a christmas tree. "They're not mine - they're for _you_!" And then he cackles again, thrusting the flowers at Aaron's chest. 

He can feel his cheeks growing hotter with embarrassment because, seriously? He's a twenty five year old _man_ , not a middle aged woman. Who would send him flowers anyway? He fumbles to take them, spies the card nestled in the top. It's marble patterned on one side, shiny and thick, and his mind supplies _Robert_ without even thinking about it.

_Aaron,_

_I'm sorry._

_I love you,  
Rx_

That's all the card says. That's all it says but it's enough because the gesture is making Aaron's heart swell twice the size - despite how much he doesn't want it to - and he can feel the smile creeping onto his lips. 

"It must've been bad if he bought you flowers," Adam bellows, still laughing.

Aaron shuffles to his feet, pockets the card and drops the flowers into the sink before filling it with an inch of water. "Shut up." 

* * *

The flowers sit proudly in the middle of the dining table, stark against the white plastic. Aqua blue and lilac, hanging bell-shaped petals on thick green stems. They're nice, even Aaron can admit that - but they still probably cost a fortune (even if they are a hell of a lot less than the fucking dresser).

"Hyacinths," Chas had cooed when he'd gone to beg a vase off her. "How lovely!" 

He'd just muttered a thanks and scarpered. 

He's home first for once. Robert had been stuck in meetings in Leeds, had texted that he was bringing home a takeaway with no mention of the flowers, and Aaron quietly sets the table.

Liv's not home, instead staying at Gabby's, and the house is deadly silent.

That's why he hears the door click open and closed again, the key in the lock and then the sound of Robert toeing his shoes off. He hears footsteps padding through to the kitchen, socked feet on laminate wood floor, and then a sharp intake of breath. He slides his arms around Aaron's waist, shoves the takeaway onto the counter. And presses warm, dry lips onto the younger man's neck, nosing against the skin behind his ear. "You got the-"

" _Flowers_ , Robert," Aaron says plainly, slipping out of Robert's embrace to face him. "You bought me flowers." 

The hopeful grin highlighting his face is nothing short of- well, lovely, really, even if Aaron would never use that word in his entire life. "Do you like them?" His tone is eager, infectious, and it's moments like this that reminds them both of how much Robert really loves him. 

"Do I look like a middle aged woman?" He asks, incredulous. He sighs at the crestfallen look the words give him, silences Robert with a thumb to his lower lip and ducks his head. "Thank you. I mean it, Robert. I just- no one's ever bought me flowers before." 

Robert laughs, short and sweet and music to Aaron's ears. "I find that hard to believe," He murmurs, pushing forward to brush his nose against Aaron's. "Does this mean I'm forgiven?" 

"You're an idiot. As long as you never, _ever_ , do anything like that again," Aaron whispers softly. "Then I forgive you. And next time, don't send the flowers to the scrapyard." Then he kisses his husband, long and deep, and tells him _I love you_ in a way that words never could. 

  
  


**the fairest flowers o' the season are our carnations**

Most of the time, Aaron has good days. Good days mean that he can get out of bed and go to work and _function_. Good days are great.

Sometimes, though, he has bad days. They plow into him full force, knock him off his feet and leave him feeling breathless. 

Much like today.

The nightmares had been relentless last night - a never-ending loop of _crashesdrowningcourtroomsrobertlivmumrobertrobertrobert_ that left him gasping and shaking, tears staining his cheeks when he woke up. Robert is good at times like this. He always is, and today's no different. He presses a warm cup of tea into Aaron's shaking hands and then he presses a soft kiss onto Aaron's trembling forehead. "I don't have to go to work today," He sighs, kneeling in front of the younger man and running fingers through his curls. "I can stay home with you. Nicola will understand." 

"Robert," Aaron says. He hates the waver in his voice, the way it shakes and breaks. He just feels so fucking weak when his own mind betrays him like this. "I'll be fine, okay? I will. And if I'm not, well- I'll call, okay? I promise you." He grasps Robert's hand in his own clammy one and wonders how he got this lucky.

Robert nods but looks devastated nonetheless. "I'm sorry," He murmurs, drawing Aaron into a hug. The warmth of him, the way he feels solid and real and _certain_ makes Aaron's knees feel a little stronger. "I'll be as quick as I can, I swear. And then I'll cook us dinner and we can have a film night, alright?" 

Aaron tucks his nose into Robert's neck, breathes in his scent and nods. "Sounds perfect."

"I love you," Robert says as he leaves, and the sad look in his eyes, the downturned corners of his lips - well, that's a look Aaron won't forget in a hurry. 

It's been a few hours since Robert's been gone, since Aaron's been alone, physically and mentally, when the doorbell blares shrilly throughout the empty house. When he answers it, a bunch of flowers is thrust into his arms.

Peach and white carnations, pastel shades. Delicate petals. A sweet smell. A gold card; metallic, strong. 

_I'll spend the rest of my life doing the best I can for you._

_I'll spend the rest of my life trying to outweigh the bad._

_Rx_

And Aaron breaks down into tears - except this time, they're the good kind.


	2. Chapter 2

**the bird of paradise alights only upon the hand that does not grasp**

Robert wakes him with breakfast in bed.

They've both managed to blag the day off work - not that it had taken much persuasion. It was their first wedding anniversary, after all. 

So Robert wakes him, later than usual, with a tray of pancakes and a cup of coffee, and a card the size of his face and a small gift-wrapped box. He settles down next to him with his own breakfast, knees knocking together and the secret of shared smiles on their lips. 

It's really, really nice, to be honest. Aaron never thought they'd get here; didn't even think they'd get _married_ if he was being entirely truthful. 

But they _are_. They're in their own home, celebrating a year of being husbands, and that's a bigger fuck you to everyone who said they wouldn't make it than anything they could ever say themselves. 

"Happy anniversary," Robert purrs, knocking their noses together. "Mr. Sugden." 

Aaron accepts the kiss, presses another one onto Robert's lips just because and grins. "Can't believe you've been a Dingle a whole year," He teases, letting his fingertips dance along the pale skin of Robert's thigh.

"C'mon," The older man huffs, impatient as ever. "Open your present!" 

Aaron laughs, tears the paper off the box and opens it. It's a watch, silver and black, gleaming and _expensive_ , and it takes his breath away. "Robert..." He sighs quietly. He turns it over in his hands, feels the weight of it and then an engraving catches his eye. 

_This is only the beginning._

_We have forever._

_Rx_

He curls his fingers around it, squeezes tight and brushes away the single tear that falls down his cheek. "What d'you think?" Robert whispers, dropping a light kiss onto his temple. "Clocks are good for first anniversary gifts, so..." 

"I love it," He says sincerely, placing it back into the box carefully. "I love _you_." He turns, kisses Robert fiercely until they're both breathless. 

"I got you something else too," Robert says sweetly, already swinging his legs off the edge of the bed. "I'll be back in a second," And then he's back, flowers in hand. The bouquet is tall, with beautifully green banana leaves framing the flowers, and the petals are startlingly orange and blue, exotic and beautiful. "They're called birds of paradise."

Aaron laughs out of surprise, rising on his knees to take the flowers and kiss Robert again. "They'll look good in the living room, at least," He offers, a cheeky edge to his voice. "Thank you, Robert. You shouldn't have."

"No," Robert says. "But I wanted to."

And Aaron can see it already: a side table by the sofa, the orange flowers accenting all the throw cushions Robert had bought, sitting in the tall, thin vase from the set of crystal ones Aaron had bought the last time Robert got him flowers. A mix of him and him, of them both. _Us_.

  


**life with you is lovely - and when i say lovely, i mean doves and lilies**

Aaron didn't see it coming. Robert did, and he tells him as much when they're on the way to Liv's school for a meeting with the headmaster.

"C'mon, Aaron," Robert sighs, placing a large hand on the younger man's thigh. "It's been at least six months since the last time we were here. It's long overdue." Then he switches lanes, eyes focused on the road but mind on Aaron.

Aaron worries his bottom lip between his teeth. He can't stop thinking, all sorts of things flitting around his mind, and the school had been absolutely no help on the phone. "But I thought we were past all this," He argues. 

Robert snorts, then quickly lets his face fall again at Aaron's glare. "It's Liv. And you can only tame a wild animal to a certain extent," Aaron huffs and stares out of the window. He catches Robert roll his eyes from the corner of his vision, and frowns. "Maybe there'll be a perfectly good explanation." His voice is softer now, more accepting.

Aaron traces the knuckles of Robert's hand with his fingertips, counting the ridges and memorising the feeling of soft skin. "You think?" 

"'Course, baby," Robert murmurs quietly, _shyly_. "She's a good kid, isn't she? Our Liv." 

Aaron nods once, twice, then takes hold of Robert's hand properly and squeezes a _thank you_.

* * *

"What did he say to you, Liv?" Aaron asks, shoulders square and rigid. He's dreading it, the response - knows that it'll be about Liv being bullied about Gordon _again_ , but he has to know. He has to make sure she's okay.

The girl shakes her head, blonde hair loose for once and dancing around her shoulders. "It doesn't matter." Her voice doesn't sound like it normally does, all confident and cocky (and something that reminds Aaron of Robert, really, the Robert he used to know, the one that doesn't show his face all that often anymore). It only makes him worry more.

"Liv," He warns, asks, _begs_. He feels Robert's hand on the small of his back, points of heat and solidarity and concern, and he relaxes into it. "Please, Liv. You know you can tell me." 

Robert's voice comes from behind him, warm and laced with care. "It's not- We won't get angry," He says softly. "You had a reason and we _know_ that." Aaron doesn't know when it got like this - when they both became Liv's guardian, became her brothers, her _parents_. A sweet sense of excitement for the future, _our family_ swells in his throat but he pushes it down.

She studies the cuts across her knuckles intently, swiping her thumb along them, and when she looks up her eyes are shining with unshed tears. "It was stuff about- about Gordon," She murmurs shakily. "About what kind of person _I_ must be because of him."

"He _does not_ define you," Aaron says fiercely, arms around Liv's shoulders as soon as she says the words. He draws her in close and squeezes as tight as he dares. He can feel the wet sweep of her eyelashes against his collarbone, and his heart shatters into a million pieces. "Just because he's biologically your father, it doesn't mean that you got anything from him. You're your mum because you're kind and caring. You're me because you're different and maybe a bit impulsive, but that's not a bad thing. And- and you're Robert because you know me, and you want what's best for me. You're _us_ , Liv, and that's because we're family. He's nothing to us, not anymore."

And neither of them see Robert quietly wiping his cheeks.

* * *

Aaron had allowed Liv to stay off school - just for the rest of the day, just to get back to herself. Just to stop the edges splitting and fraying. 

Robert had gone to work - claiming that he had a meeting, but Aaron really knew that he just wanted to give them some time alone.

He was still one of the most considerate people Aaron had ever known, and it was all that sweeter because he kept it just for his family. 

They're on film number three so far, some bad action type that Liv is tearing to shreds with her comments, and she's finally settling into herself again. It makes Aaron giddy, the dry humour laced into her voice.

And then there's a knock at the door. 

It's _another_ flower delivery - Jesus, Robert must have taken out a standing order with Interflora. 

They're white, this time; tiny blossoms curving into the centre, hanging over the edge of the cellophane. They're dainty and, well, _pure_. 

The card is no different - plain white matte, with a single gold ribbon tied over one corner.

_For the kindest, purest heart I know._

_Rx_

He pulls the card out of the bouquet and slips it into his wallet, right next to all of the other ones in Robert's writing, and finds another of the crystal vases - round and short, framing the flowers nicely.

"Lily of the valley," Liv says distractedly when he places them on the centre of the coffee table. 

Aaron frowns as he melts back into the sofa. "What?" 

Liv looks at him, searching his face for any kind of understanding and rolls her eyes when she finds none. "The bouquet?" She sighs, as if he's thick - which, well, he is when it comes to _flowers_ of all things. "They're lilies of the valley. Mum's favourite." 

Aaron nods, and is already pulling his phone out to text _I love you_.


	3. Chapter 3

**there is a flower, a little flower with silver crest and golden eye, that welcomes every changing hour, and weathers every sky**

Friday night is date night.

It's the one night of the week where they bundle themselves into Pete's taxi, find a random little hideaway restaurant and enjoy each other's company. And Aaron looks forward to it every week.

This week's no different; tonight they've found a tiny English pub that boasts _the best beer and pub grub in Leeds!_ and they're drinking, laughing, being themselves. 

It's been a while since they've had this; just each other and nothing weighing on their minds. Home James has been ridiculously busy, the scrapyard even more so, but tonight they're not thinking of accounts or old cars or the best route to Amsterdam. 

Aaron's making the most of it.

He's watching Robert tell the finer details of one of Chas and Charity's snipey arguments. The older man's in full storytelling mode, eyes bright and hands swinging wildly. Aaron stares at the flutter of his eyelashes and counts every single freckle across his cheeks.

He's not paying attention, really, too caught up in the sight of his husband in front of him, but when Robert stops he frowns. He follows the line of his sight, spies a man standing by their table.

It takes a moment for him to remember the face, to find the memory that the bloke comes from but- "Simon!"

Someone Aaron went college with - the failed mechanics course. The man nods, and speaks in the exact same gruff voice he had all those years ago. "How's it going? Still a mechanic?" He asks, staring intently at Aaron. 

He feels kind of uncomfortable under the scrutiny, like something's going to happen - something _bad_ \- but he fronts it out and forces a smile. "Yeah, not bad thanks," He says. He can feel the heat of Robert's gaze on the side of his face. "Uh, not at the minute. Running my own business - a scrapyard."

"Seems like you're doing alright for yourself then," Simon nods, seemingly to himself. "And who's your friend?" 

Aaron shoots a glance at Robert, who's smiling warmly, and feels his whole body soften. "This is Robert, my husband," He introduces. "And this is Simon. We were at college together."

Simon snorts out a harsh laugh. Yep, there it is, the bad thing that Aaron was expecting. " _Husband_?" His face lights up but there's something distinctly evil sitting on top of it all. "I mean, I read about it in the paper, when you punched that fag. I thought you'd just done it to get out of prison - but I never had you down as a poofter!" His voice booms across the small pub, and Aaron shrinks in on himself. "Look at you, sitting there all pathetic. Cock sucker." He sneers to accentuate his words.

Robert flies out of his chair before Aaron's even processed what Simon says, and he's holding him by the throat against a wall. "You- you piece of _shit_ ," Robert snarls. Aaron's never heard him like this - ever - which is saying something, and he sounds furious and upset all at once. "Don't you fucking dare talk to him like that." The blood is rushing to his skin, cheeks and neck burning red.

"Is there a problem?" A waitress asks politely, but her voice is steely hard. Aaron drops his head, waits for the inevitability of being barred or something like fucking teenagers. "Because I think you should leave, sir." Her words are directed at Simon, though - she's staring him down, eyes as hard as her voice.

And Simon just leaves. 

Robert returns to his seat, breathing harshly through his nose. His eyes are still flashing dangerously, but he seeks out Aaron's hand across the table nonetheless. "I'm sorry," He sighs, staring at a spot on Aaron's shoulder.

"It's not your fault," Aaron says, startled. "You didn't have to do that, though. He could've seriously hurt you, Rob. You didn't need to stand up for me like that." 

Robert looks affronted and finally makes eye contact. "Of course I did."

* * *

Aaron wakes to the smell of bacon and eggs and all things that constitute a good breakfast, but the reflex to reach out and touch Robert's side of the bed is already there. The sheets are cold, though, and he groans as he sits up, legs swinging over the side of the bed. Something catches his eye on the bedside table - something that definitely wasn't there the night before, or any other night before that. 

Daisies. Tens of them, long-stemmed and glittering white in the light coming from the blinds. The middles are as yellow as the sun, shining just as proud, and they're sitting in a vase that he definitely didn't buy, all watercolour streaks of azure wrapping around the glass. 

It makes him wonder how late he slept.

He instinctively reaches for the card nestled between the blooms, this time a soft blue, and he traces his finger over the front side as he thinks of cricket fields and picnics and happiness. 

_I will defend you to the ends of the earth_

_Rx_

When he drags himself downstairs, Robert is in the kitchen - in front of the stove with sausages spitting out of the pan, and that stupid loose grin on his face that he saves only for Aaron.

  
  


**lilac branches are bowed under the weight of the flowers: blooming is hard, and the most important thing is - to bloom**

Dark nights bring out Robert's truthful side; honest confessions whispered, bedding into the skin of Aaron's shoulder, neck, hair. The older man's had a sad, wistful air about him all day - and Aaron knows it's because of Andy's birthday, because his brother isn't at home where he should be. His conversation has been half-hearted all day, his answers mostly shrugs and hums, but that's alright. Aaron won't hold it against him. 

There's something in Robert's eyes, though. Something shining and painfully earnest, something gentle and achingly shy. It's just so _unlike_ him that it completely throws Aaron off. He waits regardless, waits for Robert to come to bed a full hour later, waits for him to turn his bedside lamp off and press his body into the contours of Aaron's. 

They're silent for one minute, five, ten, until Robert's breath catches and he starts speaking slowly. "I love you so much," He starts, then pauses and licks his lips. Aaron longs to feel it. "It's fucking terrifying, Aaron." 

He knows what Robert is actually saying with his words: _I'm so scared that I'll lose you, I'm so scared that you'll get caught up in something, I'm so scared of things out of our control_ , so he brushes the older man's soft hair off of his forehead. "Me too." 

"Sometimes," He muses as if he's thinking out loud. "Sometimes I wonder if I ever really loved anyone before you. Because I didn't- with Katie or Donna or Chrissie, I never felt a fraction of what I feel with you." His gaze is faraway, eyes glassy and lips slightly parted, and Aaron hates anybody who's ever put that look on his face. He wants to _hurt_ them. 

"Or maybe every love is different. Every single person on this earth is different, and maybe we just love them all in different ways," He offers, thumb gliding across the sharp line of Robert's cheekbone to bring him back to reality. His eyes clear slightly and he smiles, catching Aaron's wrist easily and he rests two fingers on the pulse. Aaron hopes it's as comforting as it is for him. 

"I just don't feel like they count?" Robert says, voice lilting into a question at the end. His gaze is fiercely meeting Aaron's now, dark and serious. 

Aaron twists his hand until their fingers are tangled, curling around each other like a lifeline. "They count, Robert," He murmurs, pushing closer to his husband. "They count because they made you who you are," Robert nods absentmindedly, clearly not agreeing and definitely not convincing about it. "And they all led you to me in the end, didn't they? That's gotta count for somethin'." 

He watches the tears rise in Robert's eyes; he watches his face curve into that pure, brilliant smile; he watches the rise and fall of his chest stutter. And it makes everything they've been through worth it. "Yeah," He agrees. "It does."

* * *

Things are better the next day. Robert is smiling and laughing and joking; Robert is confident and cocky and everything that Aaron fell for in the first place. 

One half of him wishes that _everyone_ can see the soft, open side of his husband. The other half is glad it's their little secret. 

The older man had disappeared to a meeting a few hours ago, had left with a kiss and an _I love you_ as he breezed out of the door of the portacabin. It's a far cry from what they were two years ago, and the whole being lovey in public thing still makes him a bit uncomfortable, but he thrives off it, mostly. He loves that everyone can see their love. It's all he'd wanted for years - and he still does. 

He's gutting the insides of a fifteen year old Ford Fiesta when he hears the familiar crunch of Robert's car over the gravel, and he swears the atmosphere changes the minute they'e within a five metre radius of each other. It feels electric, full of longing and want and _later_ , and he feels the corners of his mouth tugging up like a magnet, like the way the rest of his body is drawn to Robert, too. 

He doesn't look up though, determined to finish scrapping this stupid old motor the colour of bile before he goes home, but his ears perk up as he hears Robert's footsteps coming closer. He doesn't lift his gaze until his husband clears his throat, loudly and for show.

He doesn't see Robert's face. Instead, there's more flowers; wilder than all the others Robert had bought. They're purple, the kind of purple that fades into grey after a brilliant sunset, and Aaron's pretty sure Edna had a bush of them in her garden - lilacs. They look heavy, blossoming full and radiantly, and the thick brown stalks strain under the weight of them. 

He can't stop the smile spreading across his face or the way his heart seems to be bursting out of his chest, but when Robert lowers them and holds them out expectantly he takes them. "Thank you," Robert murmurs, stepping closer to lift his head over the flowers and press a soft kiss onto Aaron's cheek. 

"What for?" Aaron asks, subtly burying his nose into the bouquet. They're fragrant; sweet and strong - much like Robert himself. 

"Just for being you." Robert replies easily, dropping a kiss onto Aaron's lips this time. He turns sharply and heads to the portacabin, but Aaron can see the grin carving roundness into his cheeks and the faint tinge of a blush across his nose. 

He knows there's bound to be more and looks for the card even though Robert had given them himself this time, and he's not surprised when he finds it, tucked into the ribbon keeping the stems bound together. 

_You're my first, my last, my everything_

_Rx_

When he glances up, he can see Robert peering out of the blinds, looking expectant. He blows a kiss mockingly, but Robert pretends to catch it and holds it to his heart.


	4. Chapter 4

**the peony was unchaste, dishevelled as peonies must be, and at the height of its beauty**

This time, they're doing it right. They're getting married again.

It'll be legal, in Hotten's registry office and a reception at the pub after, but the main thing in all of this is that they're going to be bound together. 

The thought doesn't scare Aaron as much as he thought it would.

In fact, he's _happy_ about it, about Robert being his, in every way, forever. He's fucking delirious. And he can't keep the smile off his face as Robert knots his tie; the older man's fingers pressed against his collarbone, breath hot on his cheek, and eyes are shining brightly. "You look so good in that suit," He murmurs, and his hands are shaking as he slides them up Aaron's neck, to the soft, downy hairs at the back of his head. "But I got you something that'll make you look even better."

He reaches around Aaron, picks up a white, glossy box from the table and hands it over. He's still trembling, but he's smiling, some unsure, shy thing that makes Aaron's heart clench, and he takes the box. His fingers glide across the top of it before he opens it, and it reveals two blush pink flowers: boutonnieres. 

"Robert," He breathes, stroking the velvety petals delicately. "I thought we weren't doing the whole white wedding thing." He picks one up regardless, and it feels feather light in his hand. It's beautiful; dishevelled and crude in it's shape, but it's still stunning. 

Robert's smile turns crooked, almost cynical, but he takes the boutonniere from Aaron's fingers and lets their hands touch for longer than necessary. "It's not exactly big white wedding, is it?" He laughs, gently placing the flower on the lapel of Aaron's jacket. "We're still at the registry office and they're just flowers. Peonies. They're good for weddings." And then he's smoothing down Aaron's chest, leaning down to kiss him softly.

"I love you, Mr. Dingle," The younger man whispers. He can feel tears picking at the back of his eyes but they're the good kind of tears, happy ones - the best. 

"And I love you," Robert replies easily. He seems more at ease now, like he's revelling in the fact he's going to spend the rest of his life with Aaron. "Let's go get married again, Mr. Sugden." He holds out his hand, waits for Aaron to take it, and then pulls him in for another kiss just because he can.

  
  


**real beauty is in the fragility of your petals - a rose that never wilts isn't a rose at all**

After-work drinks with Adam are _always_ a bad idea. 

He thinks this when he's six pints and two whiskeys in; slurring his words and moving with heavy feet. He still manages to drag himself home, though - but it takes fifteen minutes to do the journey that'd normally take five. Adam's singing loudly up the street as Aaron lets himself in through the front door, and he giggles as he trips over the step but he clamps a hand over his mouth, remembering that it's closer to 1am and Robert'll be in bed.

But the lights are on as he kicks off his trainers, blinding him slightly as he wonders how drunk he actually must be if he didn't notice from outside - and Robert's voice drifts through the room, sounding perfectly awake and disgustingly smarmy.

Aaron quietly moves through to the kitchen, avoiding looking at Robert as he hears the older man laugh at a sweetly high-pitched, accented voice calling him _sweetheart_ , and he grabs a pint glass from the cupboard and fills it to the brim with water.

He stands over the sink, drinks half of the glass while Robert wraps up the Skype chat, and stays deadly still when he crosses the room and curls his hands around Aaron's waist.

"Did you have a good time with Adam?" He asks, voice considerably softer than before. "Because you smell like you've been swimming in a barrel of beer." 

Aaron spins to face Robert, the older man catching his wrist to steady it when the water sloshes up to the rim of the glass. "Who was that?" 

"Just some foreign client," Robert dismisses easily, taking the drink from Aaron's hand to take a sip himself. "It was just easier to do it now, because of the time difference." He offers Aaron a lopsided smile, and the younger man can see the tiredness in him now.

"Did you have a good flirt?" The bitterness shocks him, not quite sure where it came from - except there's a thudding in his chest, a feeling that doesn't rear it's head all that often anymore.

Robert recoils slightly, takes a step back and lets his hands fall to his sides. "I wasn't _flirting_ with her, Aaron," He sounds put out, and there's a line between his eyebrows that Aaron wants to smooth away. 

But. But he's started something now, and he already regrets it. 

"What would you call it, then?" He asks disinterestedly, the words forming without him even thinking about it. "Foreplay, maybe?" He sees the hurt rising on Robert's face, but he's drunk and the whiskey is definitely taking control right now.

"I didn't-" Robert starts, bringing his hands up to his hair. "I didn't flirt with her. I was doing a _deal_!" He turns and walks away, stopping by the dining table and clutching one of the chairs as he breathes hard. "Why would you even think that, anyway?"

Aaron feels his wet eyelashes brushing his cheeks before he even realises he's crying. "Because I'm not enough for you, am I?" He whispers, fingertips pressing painfully into the countertop behind him. "You could never be properly happy with me." 

Robert doesn't turn around, but his shoulders sag. "Of course you are," He sounds quiet, possibly dejected and definitely exhausted. "I- I don't know how many times I can tell you, Aaron. I thought you were getting better." 

Aaron wipes his cheeks angrily, takes several tentative steps until he's standing close enough to Robert that he can feel his body heat and waits for the older man to look up. When he finally does, his eyes are impossibly wide and sad. "I'll never be better, Robert," He says, voice low and rough. "I'm _trying_ \- but I feel like I'll never be good for you. I know what it's like to share you, and I hated it. I don't want that again." 

"You won't," Robert says quickly, with finality in his tone. "I'm yours and yours alone, you know that." He places an arm around Aaron's shoulders, draws him in until the younger man tucks himself into Robert's side. 

"I'm just so scared that one day you'll realise you don't want me," Aaron chokes out, throat feeling tight. The words are muffled from where he's pressed against Robert's chest, but they cut clearly through the silence in the room. 

Robert drops his head, buries his lips and nose into Aaron's hair. "Of course I'll want you. I _need_ you." 

Aaron nods tearfully, and lets Robert guide him upstairs into bed.

* * *

Aaron wakes up alone.

He's not surprised, given the way he'd made a scene last night. The memory of it hurts almost as much as the hangover.

He's determined to not get out of bed for at least another hour, so he turns into his left side and comes face to face with a blur of red. 

A dozen roses, wrapped carefully in silky cellophane, deep burgundy and breathtaking. He reaches over and picks out the card, feels the black velvet underneath his fingertips.

_Forever_

_Rx_


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's finally here!!! three months later!!!
> 
> i know i completely abandoned this but i was just #uninspired and i hated it tbh. but i've finished it now!
> 
> this is the final chapter - it's been a bumpy ride, but i love you all and THANK YOU FOR STICKING BY ME, i do not deserve it.
> 
> here goes!
> 
> happy reading xxx

It's only when he's gazing absentmindedly at the roses that something clicks.

He thinks of all the cards, about the words Robert had written. He thinks of all the conversations they'd had in the days before the deliveries.

And then he knows.

He thinks of the flowers and the words and everything Robert's done for him, and he reaches for his phone, pulling up Google and typing away.

**Flowers and their meanings.**

  


He thinks of the argument:  _"Hyacinths," Chas coos. "How lovely! How's he gone and fucked up this time?" But her words are softened with a grin, by the way her eyes are glassy and proud. It makes him uncomfortable, the way she's scrutinising him with that fond look on her face._

_He shrugs noncommittally. "Just some argument," He mutters, fighting back the blush that's threatening to rise up his neck. "You know what he's like."_

_Chas laughs, and even her tone is gentle. "I know that he loves you," She says instead of a proper reply. And it's weird to think of how much she'd hated Robert at first - now she's the first one to jump in and defend him._

_For the first time in his life, Aaron's proud of his decisions._

**Aqua-blue varieties of hyacinth blossoms mean sincerity in the language of flowers, while violet blooms represent the asking of forgiveness from the recipient.**

  


He's grinning before he realises it, thinking about how _soft_  his husband actually is. They'd been lovely at the time, sure - but now they make his heart skip a beat, the memory of it rose-tinted and safely tucked away in his mind. 

He thinks of the others, thinks of the birds of paradise, exotic and striking and the way Victoria had smiled when she'd seen them. 

_"Happy anniversary," She grins as Robert lets her through the front door, offering a card and a hug. Aaron takes them both, remembers how much she loves them both and how much they both love her. She's their biggest supporter - always had been, especially when things had been tough and they'd been split apart. "I'm guessing Robert bought the flowers."_

_Robert snorts, but his fingers find the curve of the younger man's elbow. "As if it was going to be him," He teases, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth. He's cheeky and gorgeous and so, so in love. Aaron can see it written all over him. He wonders how he could've ever doubted it. "He's the least romantic person I know."_

_Aaron pinches Robert's hip, hand sliding it's way under his shirt and then just sitting there. "They're birds of paradise, apparently. Although I would've been happy with four cans of Stella."_

_"Birds of paradise?" Vic starts. She's gone soft around the eyes and impossibly softer around the mouth, wrapping her arms around her middle. "Aren't they-" But Robert's nod cuts her off, and she's smiling at him like Chas smiles at Aaron. Proud and in awe, familial and loving._

_It warms Aaron's heart._

**Bird of Paradise symbolises exciting and wonderful anticipation.**

  


His mind drifts to the carnations and the way they'd made him smile when nothing else could. He thinks of them glittering in the sunshine and how they smelt.

And then he's scrolling on his phone again, words blurring as his fingers move, and he bites down on his thumb to stop the soppiest grin from spreading on his face.

_Robert comes home, face flushed and breathing heavy like he'd been running, rushing around. He looks exhausted but lights up at the sight of Aaron anyway, and his palms cup the younger man's face as soon as he's in reach. "I love you," He murmurs, bringing their foreheads together. "How have you been?"_

_"Good," Aaron confirms with a nod. He's not even lying this time. "I've been good - thanks to you, I mean." And he jerks his head towards the flowers. Robert smiles, a brilliant pure thing that makes the sun seem dull in comparison, and he presses the softest of kisses onto Aaron's lips._

_"I was worried," Robert admits, thumb lazily tracing the line of Aaron's cheekbone. They're close but not close enough, not with the way Aaron wants to climb inside his husband and fill up all the cracks and gaps, to make sure he's never lonely again. "I'm always worried about you."_

_Aaron closes his eyes, breathes in Robert's scent and soaks in Robert's warmth and listens to Robert's breathing. He feels Robert. "I don't deserve you."_

_"You deserve better," The older man whispers, kissing Aaron a little deeper this time._

**White carnations suggest pure love while peach carnations mean devoted love.**

  


The lilies - they were something he wouldn't have even dreamed of liking, but he loved them. They weren't showy or strong, just delicate blooms and dainty stems. They were understated but beautiful, and that's honestly exactly how Aaron thinks of his marriage.

_Robert steps through the door, but he's slower than normal - more careful. He takes his time, unlaces his shoes and places them on the rack, and hangs his jacket up. He's almost silent, but Aaron just watches him with a smile on his face. "Hiya," He whispers, shooting a glance at Liv on the sofa. She's fast asleep, blanket tugged up around her neck and mouth wide open._

_The older man smiles back and heads to the kitchen, fills a glass with water. "Did you have a nice day?" He asks lowly, leaning against the counter and peering at Aaron through half-lidded eyes._

_Aaron rises from the sofa, pads over to Robert and takes the glass out of his hand. He puts it carefully on the side and presses up to kiss his husband chastely, balancing on his tiptoes. "You didn't have to leave, you know," He murmurs, one hand squeezing Robert's hip and the other resting on his chest. "You're family, too. I said as much, didn't I?"_

_"Yeah," Robert half laughs, embarrassed and sweet. "But you two need each other sometimes, and that's alright. I don't want to intrude." He drops a kiss onto Aaron's hairline, and then they stand there for a moment, arms around one another and swaying._

_They're interrupted by Liv groaning from the sofa, but they don't spring apart like normal - just slowly untangle themselves, and end up holding hands instead. "Rob?" The girl sighs, lifting her head and then dropping it back again. "Those flowers are lovely, you know. Nice thought. They're my mum's favourite." She sounds wistful and looks it, too; Aaron can tell even from here. Because even though they're a family, Liv misses her mum. It's alright, Aaron understands._

_"They're nice," Aaron confirms, pressing his lips against Robert's jaw. "Thank you. I love you, you know?"_

_Robert flushes slightly under the attention, not used to it (and Aaron thinks he should probably change that) but he pulls the younger man in tighter against his side and flashes a smile at Liv. "I know," He murmurs, and Aaron looks around at his family._ His family _. He wouldn't change a thing._

**Lily of the Valley symbolizes sweetness and purity of heart.**

  


Sometimes he dreams of flowers, of blue skies and glittering petals. Robert's always there, telling Aaron he loves him and that he'll never leave him. Sometimes his dreams are memories, like that time Robert did this or Robert did that. Sometimes, he dreams of Robert in that pub, on their tiny insignificant date, threatening a man three times his size. Sometimes- sometimes, he just doesn't know what he did to deserve a love like the kind Robert possesses, fierce and unyielding. 

_"Robert," Aaron says quietly, sitting at the table. Robert is next to him, reading the paper and eating his breakfast without a care in the world, but Aaron tucks a foot under his husband's thigh and puts his fork down. "Can we talk about last night?"_

_Robert hardly looks up, just makes a noise in the base of his throat and glances up. "There's nothing to talk about."_

_"So we're not going to talk about the fact you could've gotten yourself_ killed _by sticking up for me?" He hisses. He's not angry, he's not - he just remembers what Simon was like back then, he remembers what he was like himself. They weren't nice people, neither of them. And Robert, god, what if he'd have gotten on the wrong side of the man? A spike of fear stabs through his heart at the thought of losing his husband._

_"I didn't, though, did I?" Robert counters, meeting Aaron's eyes. He looks hard and determined, but there's no less love on his face. "And I'd do it again, if I had to. Talking about it won't change that." He swallows down his mug of tea, stands to put his plate in the sink, but Aaron catches his sleeve._

_He pulls Robert around so he's facing him, holds him there with his gaze. "You can't put yourself in danger for me," He says, hates the way his voice wavers._

_Robert blinks, suddenly soft and sweet, and cups Aaron's face in his hands. "I would go to the ends of the earth for you, Aaron," He whispers, brushing his lips against the younger man's forehead. "I mean it, I'd do anything for you. Just remember that, because nothing you say will stop me from protecting you when you need it."_

**Daisy conveys loyal love.**

  


He'd kept the lilacs in the portacabin and claimed they made the place smell better, but he didn't mind Adam's constant ribbing. The flowers- alright, it was kind of weird at first, but then he'd grown to appreciate them. He was a bloke but he finally understood why women liked getting flowers. He liked the surprise, the reassurance they gave. He liked looking at them, liked remembering Robert's love for him. That's why he didn't mind the jabs. That's why he smiled and flipped Adam off every time. 

_"Could you get me a bigger bunch?" Aaron asks, tone dripping with amusement. He glances at Robert, smiling softly in the moonlight, and lays his arm across his husband's bare stomach._

_"You deserve them," Robert says, matter of fact, confident. He links their fingers and brushes his thumb over the engagement-turned-wedding ring. "You deserve all the flowers. I meant what I wrote, though - you might not be my first love, and the others do count, but you're the only one where I feel like I can be myself."_

_Aaron blinks away the tears clouding his vision and settles his head on Robert's chest, counts the thudthudthud of his heartbeat, the seconds between his breaths. "That means a lot more, doesn't it?" He asks, even though he knows the answer. He knows because he feels it too, the way he lets Robert see everything, the way that Robert loves him in spite of all of his flaws._

_"Yeah," Robert whispers, grasping his hand a little tighter. "You're the first love because you see me for who I am, and you don't hate me. That- that means everything, Aaron."_

_The younger man drops a kiss to Robert's collarbone, soft and barely there and nothing but comfort. "Soft lad."_

**Purple lilac symbolizes first love.**

  


There are so many days that Aaron could call the best one of his life, but there's just one that really stands out, front and centre. Their second wedding day, the registry office in Hotten, black suits and pink flowers. The Dingles happy, the Sugdens supportive. It was more than Aaron had ever wanted - even expected - but he didn't want anything else with Robert. Just being tied to each other. Forever.

_Aaron frowns at the books on the coffee table, the expensive kind that don't even say the name on the front, but apparently Robert likes them because_ they're intelligent, Aaron, god _. He tidied this morning, put everything away after Liv had torn through the house like a hurricane, and now it's messy again. "Robert," He calls, voice pitched and a little bit angry. The older man skids to a stop in the living room, in nothing but joggers and his socks. "What are these?"_

_He goes to lift them, but Robert places a hand on his arm. "Don't!" He says, strangled and pitched. "They won't be ready yet." He's blushing, and yeah, this is when Aaron knows he's hiding something._

_"Are you going to tell me?" He asks, raising one eyebrow._

_"I was pressing the boutonnieres," The older man mumbles, crossing his arms across his bare torso like he feels to exposed. "So we could keep them."_

_Aaron feels his face and body soften with affection, and he sighs, lifting the top book off. The peonies are there, flattened and drying out, and he fights the smile off his face as he carefully drops the book back where it was. "You wanted to keep them?" He teases, resting his fingertips on the points of Robert's elbows. "I thought I was the sentimental one."_

_"Yeah, well," Robert sighs, but he's grinning now, cautiously. "Just want to remember the best day of my life, don't I?"_

**Peony symbolizes a happy life, happy marriage, good health and prosperity.**

  


He still flushes with shame when he thinks about the night he was drunk, because Robert was _right_ \- he is supposed to be better. It's just that sometimes, not often anymore, he feels like he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. He knows that Robert loves him. He just doesn't understand why. But he pushes the memory out of his mind and thinks about the roses the morning after instead.

_"I'm sorry," Aaron whispers, quietly padding into the living room. Robert's sitting on the sofa, typing something out on his laptop - probably something to do with the deal from last night - and he looks_ exhausted _. Neither of them had slept much, just laid there touching each other and breathing in sync. "I was out of order."_

_Robert looks up and blinks, like he hadn't realised Aaron was there. "I just really hoped we were past this," He sighs, sounding desperate and sad. He shuts the lid of the computer and pats the space next to him, lets the younger man fold himself into his side. "I'm sorry if I made you think I was flirting, but I_ wasn't _. I promise you."_

_"I know that, I do," Aaron chokes out, squeezing his eyes shut. Conversations like this are always the hardest, always make tears claw at his eyes, but there are things that they need to talk through, and this is one of them. "I just- I'm not a good person, am I? I don't have anything going for me, and you could have the world at your feet."_

_"_ You _are my world, Aaron. You're the best person, and I loved you before, I love you now, and I'll always love you. You might not believe it but I'll tell you every day if I have to," He murmurs, tilting Aaron's chin up with a finger. "You're my husband and I love you. I've never wanted anyone else."_

_Aaron lets himself be kissed, lets Robert scratch his fingers through his hair, lets Robert's hand rest on his ankle. He wants to believe it, and if he tries hard enough, he feels like it's real and unwavering._

_He tries._

**A red rose is an unmistakable expression of love. Red Roses can also be used to convey respect, admiration or devotion. 12 red roses is the most popular of all which conveys "Be mine" and "I love you".**

  


Aaron waits, the house silent. The telly's off, Liv's in town with Gabby and Jacob - it's quiet, and he taps his foot restlessly and bites the skin around his thumb. He waits.

He's up like a shot the minute he hears Robert's key in the door, the way it's twisted once to the left and twice to the right to stop it sticking and then the definitive click. He shifts his weight between his feet, and why exactly is he _nervous_? This is his husband, his best friend, his _soulmate_. He shouldn't be nervous.

"Hi," Robert breathes, smile on his face and a light in his eyes like he hasn't seen Aaron all of six hours ago. The younger man takes two large strides forwards and pushes Robert against the wall, kisses him with all his worth. "What was that for?" 

"I love you," Aaron says, firm. "I love you, and I don't tell you enough but I do - and I appreciate you. Everything you've ever done for me, Robert, I love it and I love _you_." He reaches up and kisses Robert again, licks his way into the older man's mouth and shudders at the breath he gasps out.

When he pulls back, Robert's eyes are clouded with lust, dark and glittering, but he just smooths a hand down Aaron's side and smiles crookedly. "You know, then," He laughs, swaying forward into his husband's space. "You figured it out." 

"I did have a look, yeah," Aaron confirms, kissing Robert sweetly, closed-mouthed and gentle. "You're amazing, you know that? Soft, but amazing." 

"You won't tell anyone, will you? I've got a reputation to maintain," Robert teases, leading them both to the sofa. He drops down, pulls Aaron on top of him, and then shifts until they're laying, staring at each other. "I'd buy you flowers every day if I had to, Aaron." 

Aaron flexes his fingers and then curls them into his palm, feels the metal of his ring digging into the skin. Thinks, _he loves me he loves me he loves me he loves me_ , and breathes out slowly. "Save your money," He murmurs, letting the tips of his fingers ghost through Robert's hair. "But, y'know, every once in a while wouldn't be so bad. Nice surprise." 

The grin that lights up Robert's face is blinding. "I'll keep that in mind."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr @ [aarobron](http://aarobron.tumblr.com/) xo

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me on tumblr @ [aarobron](aarobron.tumblr.com) xo


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